


Once More, With Healing!

by herbailiwick



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: Genderfluid Character, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 23:16:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11473710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herbailiwick/pseuds/herbailiwick
Summary: Gaston is alive, and needs a little help getting back to health.





	Once More, With Healing!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sophiavfl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophiavfl/gifts).



Gaston’s new lease on life and his failure to capture Belle’s heart have an effect on him, one Stanley tries to tell LeFou about, but LeFou has been actually, really hurt, and he isn’t interested in trying to see the change just yet.

Agathe brought him back to his home, weakened, injured, but alive. LeFou had made sure he was going to live, to get back to his old self in some sense, before leaving Stanley to care for him. “I just can’t, yet,” he sighs, and Stanley understands, but all he sees when he looks at Gaston there is someone who needs care and nurturing. He hasn’t been betrayed the same way.

When Gaston first wakes, he’s confused, and there’s something about him that is too full of thoughts and the sensations of emotions to bother looking tough when he’s undressed and it’s just Stanley and he actually does need help.

Stanley and Gaston have rarely spent time one on one before, but, as Stanley reads a few books aloud, fumbling over some of the words, as he offers broth and tends to wounds, he wonders why. 

Is this Gaston the one that LeFou had seen before, at the war and afterward? Or, is there something even newer there, too, in addition? He seems to just care less than he used to about how stuff comes across, and yet, somehow, that means he doesn’t act like someone who doesn’t care about others. It’s a strange contradiction, but he can deal with it. After all, he’s taken to experimenting with a new side of himself as well.

Stanley has days where trousers are just fine, and he has days where they’re not, but now he does something about it, if only mostly in the room he’s taken to using at Gaston’s.

Gaston places a hand over Stanley’s as he’s fumbling over Shakespeare, and it gives him pause. He’s not the best reader in town; certainly no Belle, not even a Gaston. Gaston could read for himself, but it’s more interesting to hear it aloud cause he can focus better anyway.

“Gaston?” asks Stanley. “You want me to quit?” Gaston shakes his head slowly. His blue eyes are deep, intent, but they don’t have a plan. There’s no calculation there at all, and Stanley blinks.   


Stanley, also a person of instinct, curls his hand into the touch, connecting them. 

“I need to apologize to him,” Gaston finally says. His grip is strong and warm, so...solid. 

“You do!” Stanley agrees. “It’s so nice to hear you say that.” He gives the hand a squeeze.

“What do you do, when you disappear into your room?” Gaston asks so abruptly.

Stanley lets go of the hand, holds the book properly again. 

“I abandoned a dear friend and let him get injured on my behalf. I tried to kill a prince. You’re... _tending_ to me. It can’t be that bad,” Gaston scoffs.

“You can walk,” Stanley shrugs. 

“Poorly,” Gaston points out. “But, yes. Is that an invitation?”

Stanley looks down at the page, focuses on how he wants to appear, how unaffected he should look, how casual he should try and play things off. He’d be fine if he was made to quit his new hobby, his new way of expression.

Right?

Gaston pushes himself up out of the bed with a bit of concerted effort. Stanley watches, slightly horrified they’ve reached this point, the point of him sabotaging this nice routine they’ve fallen into and maybe so much more. But, he’s had a long history of watching Gaston, so, he continues to do so, and only stands when Gaston creaks the door shut most of the way. 

When he rises, he trips over his feet, nervous about the potential fallout. The truth is, he’s not sure where Gaston stands now on things, and he wasn’t very sure of where he stood before.

“Oh! You want to go full time! Create fashions,” Gaston says, pleased as he leans against the doorjamb. “That’s noble, my friend.”

It takes a long moment before he glances back at Stanley and sees the inaction there, sees the indications that that’s not what it’s all about.

“I’m sleeping well, knowing you’re here,” Gaston shares. “I’m glad to still have a friend right now. I dug my grave, yet, here I am,” he gestures to his body with his free hand. Stanley takes a second to look at the body being gestured to.  


“I thought I had answers that I don’t seem to have anymore.”  


Stanley sighs. He steps closer against his better judgment, brushing past Gaston to get into the room. He begins to strip down.

Gaston doesn’t quite understand, but the situation isn’t bothering him either, so he patiently watches, still leaning for support. Stanley crosses the room to the wardrobe, pulling out a corset. Getting it into place around himself, he finally asks, “Do you mind?”

Gaston tilts his head in curiosity. “No,” he tells him, carefully crossing the room to help Stanley dress. “The fashions are for you,” he says. The tone isn’t very different than the one he uses to discuss Shakepeare or the weather. Polite, fairly casual, vaguely impressed in a way that shows he has a lot on his mind all the time, only some of which makes its way into spoken word.

“Some days, this is me,” Stanley says softly as Gaston helps him. “Thoughts?”  


“None,” says Gaston, and it’s pleasant.  


***

Stanley sits in his most comfortable dress next to Gaston, who almost doesn’t need his attentions as a nurse anymore. Gaston has his arm around his shoulders, the book open between them. 

“These words aren’t so boring when you’re here to appreciate them,” Gaston teases Stanley.   


Stanley rolls his eyes, snuggles closer. His head leans, rests itself on Gaston, and his eyes close.

LeFou will be by later to go over the happenings at the tavern. He’s stepped in to help there in ways Stanley couldn’t have ever hoped to. And he’s discovered that one of the regulars is wonderful, ready for romance in a way Gaston hadn’t been before his fall, and appreciates him for his singing, always admiring from afar before LeFou started making rounds checking in with patrons.

“I’m happy for him, Gaston. I’m so happy,” Stanley sighs.   


“But,” Gaston points out, leaning in to kiss him on the top of his head, “You’re happier for you.”  


Stanley laughs brightly. “Yes, and for you!”

“Hm,” Gaston nods gently. “I think maybe our history had an effect on each other, in an unflattering way. This may be...healthy?”

“We’re all even closer than before,” Stanley hums happily.   


Gaston lets his eyes close after a moment, slipping into sleep so easily. That’s how LeFou finds them, laughing at the sight, the sound of it kind and amused.

There’s not much bitterness between the three of them anymore, just a sea of new ways to connect and to show that they care. 

 _Thank you, Agathe,_ Stanley thinks to himself once again.

Unbeknownst to him, Gaston has the same thought.


End file.
